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The first kiss
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2025-03-09 16:59:13Sienna barely slept that night.
Her mind was tangled in thoughts of Damien and Logan Pierce, both of them frustratingly powerful in their own ways. One was a threat, the other was an even bigger threat—just in a different way. She hated that Damien’s words stayed with her, that his warning about Logan wasn’t something she could just brush off. She hated even more that she had noticed his concern, that some part of her had wanted to lean into it. That was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to blur the lines. Because at the end of the day, this was a deal. Nothing more. Right? — By the time morning came, she was still exhausted. She dragged herself out of bed, wrapping Damien’s ridiculously expensive silk robe around her before heading toward the kitchen. And then— She froze. Damien was already there. And he was shirtless. Sienna swallowed hard. He stood by the counter, pouring himself coffee, his back muscles flexing with every movement. The sweatpants hung low on his hips, teasing just enough of his toned body to make her brain malfunction. For a second—just a second—she let herself look. And then he turned, catching her. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. “Morning, sweetheart.” Sienna quickly looked away. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. She grabbed a glass of water and downed it, pretending that her throat wasn’t suddenly dry. “Put a shirt on,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. Damien chuckled. “Why? Am I distracting you?” Sienna scowled. “You’re always distracting.” He grinned, leaning against the counter, watching her with far too much amusement. “Well, you’re not exactly subtle either, Mrs. Lancaster.” Sienna clenched her jaw. “Shut up.” Damien laughed, shaking his head. Sienna hated that sound. Because it made something in her chest tighten. And that? That was the real problem. — Later that evening, they attended one of Damien’s business events—one of those high-society gatherings where everyone pretended to like each other while secretly plotting. Sienna was getting used to playing her role. Smiling. Nodding. Looking like she belonged. But tonight? Tonight, she was hyper-aware of Damien. Of the way his hand rested on her waist. The way his touch burned through the fabric of her dress. The way he kept stealing glances at her, as if fighting something he didn’t want to name. And then— It happened. She turned toward him—ready to say something sarcastic, to break the moment— But Damien wasn’t listening. He was looking at her. His eyes dark, intense. Sienna’s breath caught. And then— He leaned in. And for the first time since this deal began— Damien kissed her. — At first, Sienna froze. Her mind screamed that this wasn’t real, that this was a mistake— But her body? Her body betrayed her. Heat flooded her veins as Damien’s lips moved slowly, deliberately against hers, as if testing, teasing. Her fingers curled into his suit jacket, her breath hitching as he deepened the kiss, erasing the space between them. Damien tasted like whiskey and control—like something forbidden. Something dangerous. And Sienna? She was drowning in it. — When they finally pulled apart, her lips tingled, her pulse racing. Damien’s gaze was heated, unreadable. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. Because they both knew— Something had changed. Something they couldn’t take back. And that? That was the real danger. — Oh! These lovebirds 😂😂 Did you see this coming? Well there are still obstacles, Damien’s parents and now Logan a powerful businessman. What could he want?Related chapters
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Sienna had spent the past few weeks navigating Lancaster politics, but nothing about this world felt any easier. The weight of the scandal still lingered, whispers following her everywhere she went. And now, with Richard’s veiled threats hanging over her, the tension had only gotten worse. Tonight was supposed to be a rare moment of escape. The charity gala was being held at one of the city’s most prestigious venues—a grand ballroom adorned with gold chandeliers and crystal centerpieces. It was the kind of event where appearances mattered more than substance, where the elite gathered under the guise of generosity while secretly competing to outshine one another. Sienna had expected the usual—cold glances from the Lancaster circle, reporters subtly prying for gossip, Damien maintaining that carefully crafted distance between them. What she hadn’t expected… was Julian Rothschild. “Sienna.” She turned at the sound of his voice, finding him leaning casually against the bar, a knowin
